How do you write a Story

I wasn't going to write anything today, but this came about

How do you write a Story? ©

By 

Michael Casey

I was just in the kitchen making a coffee after I had an unexpected Chilli wrap, ruined by cucumber, but I removed those first. It does remind me of Barry in the DPS office next to the computer room, I used to tease him 20 years ago and more by saying I’d kiss him. But he always kept cucumber at hand to keep me away.  No neither of us is Gay, just usual office horse play, Barry by the way is so virile just one look and you are pregnant. I won’t give you his nickname, you can imagine it for yourselves, they probably sing it down the Villa.

But back to the plot, there is no plot, I was just in the kitchen and I spontaneously thought, where does a story come from, and how could I explain it? I was putting the milk in my instant coffee, without sugar, and I thought what if I spilt the milk all over the floor. And there you have it, that’s how a story can emerge. So I spill the milk, no use crying over it. But for Totoro our cat, it’s a nice free lunch, who said there was no such thing as a free lunch. Ok, it’s a milk shake, all over the kitchen floor.

An accident can lead to a story, and that leads to a connection. A memory, a tale or cat’s tail or two. It really is that simple, not unless you live with your life stuck to a screen watching rubbish as you walk under a bus, and then sue somebody else when it’s your own fault. See a second of social commentary as well, I do throw things in to see if you are paying attention, there will be a 20 question quiz at the end so sharpen those pencils too.

Going back to the spilt milk in the kitchen, if we use that as a start to a story. What happens next? The cat has a drink. The end. Only dullards will end it there, or 5 year olds. Come on class, I expect better. You don’t wipe it clean, your girlfriend comes home and slips. She bangs her head, and dumps you because you never clean up. Or she is unconscious and a burglar comes in and steals everything, because the windows and door are all open in the heat. If your house is like that today remember to lock up.

Or she falls over and is dead, then the local foxes come in and eat her, as you have gone off to Blackpool for a Stag do. When you  get back, you are arrested for her murder. The Police think you are a bad, mad sad monster for eating her too. And all because you spilt milk.

So that’s one story line. Or your girlfriend is annoyed with you she gets the milk from the fridge and pours it all over your suits in the wardrobe. Or takes them downstairs and piles them in a heap in the kitchen and empties all the food onto your clothes. When you get back he kills her then slips over and bang his head on the Belfast sink Murder Suicide a la laite as the French say.

Or he comes back and laughs, as he gets free samples for his Laudromat business. Then you have a food fight in the kitchen all over his best suits, wiping dairy all over each other’s  face and then body. Until finally naked and covered in dairy you lick it off each other’s bodies. And that is how you finally conceive, a food fight in your kitchen, then you cry with joy over the spilt milk. You have to persuade him not to call  your future child Totoro.

As  you lay there on the kitchen floor naked and  happy and full of joy, your nosey neighbour walks in. I saw the backdoor open she begins, you think she’ll be shocked. Then she reveals she was the model in The Joys of Sex the 1970s bestseller. And of course she’ll babysit in 9 months’ time.

Now these are just a few quick ideas from me thinking about spilling my milk in the kitchen a few minutes ago, no it’s not a metaphor. I’m sure all of you can expand on these ideas for a bigger and better story of your own. Just remember to lock the kitchen back door, and don’t waste too much dairy on the floor, dairy is for eating and licking off slowly, and if you don’t know how to, I can give lessons…